


Got your name written on my skin

by Mareridt



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareridt/pseuds/Mareridt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Hartwin Secret Santa 2015-16 prompt: "I'm an absolute sucker for soulmate aus in any way, shape, or form. I love creative takes, the tropiest of trope takes, and everything (and anything) in between."</p><p>***<br/>Eggsy closed the shower and kneened down, leaning on the cold tile of the bathroom for support. When the world stopped spinning around and turning upside down, he looked down.<br/>His left wrist was throbbing, as well as his chest. In strawberry red letters, nine elegant letters were showing off on his creamy skin. Nine letters forming just two words. Just one name.<br/>Harry Hart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got your name written on my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galahard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/gifts).



> This is my work for the assignment of Hartwin Secret Santa 2015-16, a gift for Galahard, based on her soulmate au prompt. I loved it, and it's the longest one shot/request I've ever written in my life, so I hope you enjoy your gift, Galahard, and you others reading this enjoy the story!  
> Selfbetad!

 

 

The first time Eggsy saw him, he was seven years old.

Old enough to understand, not enough to feel everything like he should. He looked at the man towering over him, looked at him propping himself on his heels, his eyes brown and warm and fond. He took his snowball from his little hands and shook it. The snow vorticated like it was real, so Eggsy let him and thought his smile was pretty.

“What's your name?” the man asked. Eggsy didn't move from his spot on the floor.

“Eggsy” he answered, missing for a moment the snowball the man let on the furniture; it was his last father's present. The man held a medal in front of him; it was pink and gold, with a sideway K.

“You take care of this, Eggsy” the man requested him, serious. A glance at his mother and... “Take care of your mom, too.”

And then he was gone.

He didn't even touch Eggsy, but the little boy felt something strange in him anyway.

The place where the mark of his soulmate on his chest would have been was tickling.

 

***

 

Seventeen years later, Eggsy was still without a soulmate.

Almost everyone he knew found one, even his best mates Jamal and Ryan, but Eggsy didn't have a name written on his chest, or on his wrist. He knew that his soulmate's name would be written on both of them at their first touch, it was the rule.

Truth was, the rule was one, but the exceptions weren't inexistent. Uncommon, yes, but real: extremely unlucky people who had two different names on their body, one on the chest and one on the wrist, two different names for two different kind of soulmates and they had to choose between them. One would give them happiness, the other nothing but grief. The so called “wrongmate” was by definition the _deathmate_. 

Eggsy hoped everyday not to be one of those people.

Unfortunately, his mother was. She had had just one name before, but after his father died, the name on her wrist deleted. Usually, the previous name would just have changed colour, or scar all around like a bad burn that showed the empty place in the person's heart, but for Michelle Unwin, the skin turned simply blank. Something like that was so rare it was considered legendary, but in the Unwin family, nothing should have been taken as granted. Eggsy wished it was simply a second chance for her mother, because she deserved to be happy again, but that wish extingued the day his new soon-to-be-stepfather walked inside of his home.

The day when, after eleven years, the name of Dean Anthony Baker decided to write itself on the skin of his mother.

Eggsy wished that the disgusting man could have been dead before that, but reality was different. Dean became his stepfather just after five months of knowing his mother.

Dean seemed a good man for the first two weeks or so, and Eggsy had nothing to say about that; then he came home drunk, and hit Michelle for the first time. Eggsy tried to stop him, and Dean forced him on his first lovely trip to hospital. The first of many.

He revealed himself as a drug dealer, forced Eggsy in the business under the threat of killing his mother, beat him to a pulp more times than not, but in the end the fair haired boy just got used to it.

To be alone in the world.

Sometimes he still thought about the man who gave him his medal, but he didn't remember his name anymore. He knew he could have called the number on the medal and tried to ask for help to get rid of the monster living under his own roof, but would it have been real?

Would someone really answer and do something so important for him just because his dad had been killed in the line of duty?

No, Eggsy was alone. He couldn't do any of that. He also had to protect his mother, and the baby she had from her second husband.

Deep down, Eggsy hated the fact that Michelle was pregnant once again. He didn't want to think that he and the abusive man living under his own roof were going to have something in common, a relative. A fucking _kid_. 

He would be the brother of the  _fucking_ kid of _Dean Baker_ . It disgusted him, and he was ashamed of that. Even more when the kid was born, and a wonderful cute little girl named Daisy opened her eyes in front of him. It was love at first sight, and Eggsy felt deeply ashamed of himself for hating her before she was born. She didn't deserve any of that. She deserved protection, and she had him for that. 

So, after that, still a lonely soul in the world, with a daily trip to the hospital, dealing drugs and taking care of his mother  _and_ his sister, he went on ignoring the number on the back of the medal like he always did. Like he did that day too, when Rottie decided to celebrate his birthday trying to bed Eggsy, but Eggsy was no rent boy. He fought back, and was beat to a pulp. 

Again.

At least he didn't completely take it without giving back, Rottie was pretty bad as well when he ran away on his sprained ankle.

Later, he told his mates he was out and couldn't go with them to the Black Prince, but they knew him better. They knew he was in the hospital, being patched up and all, hoping for some painkillers to not make his life miserable.

“Three broken ribs, two broken fingers and almost the same amount of broken toes, split lips, a shiner, left cheekbone turned purple, twisted wrist, bruises all over and a strained ankle” the nurse read on his folder after he checked him. A sigh, a head shaking in disappointment and judgement. “Got in a fight?”

“Nope, tripped over the stairs” Eggsy commented. Of course he got in a fight, dumb imbecile, why asking something so obvious. “Long stairs, really, bruv.”

He didn't get hit by the nurse for being cheeky just because the nurse knew when the situation was already bad enough, otherwise he would have had a bruise or two more. He was accomodated in the hall to wait for his turn in the med, so he sat down in an empty chair there hoping he could be done soon and turn back home.

Jamal decided to call in that moment. “Oi, mate, you a'right?”

“Nah, bruv, don't worry” Eggsy shrugged, even if he couldn't see him. “'m fine. You already saw me bruised, 's nothing new. A couple of broken ribs, nothing more.”

“Got beaten so bad?”

Eggsy laughed. “Should have seen the others, bruv” he comforted Jamal, trying to ease his concern. Someone, a man sitting in front of him reading a newspaper, laughed under his breath. Eggsy eyed him warily from his seat, still talking to his friend.

“You fuckin' idiot, should've gone there immediately, _calling_ a fucking _cab_.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe running two miles with a sprained ankle wasn't the best idea I've ever had,” the fair haired boy bit his split lip, and yielped in pain.

The man, probably in his late forties, laughed again. Eggsy really started to think it was because of him, so he closed the call faster than he could to stop giving him a free show to enjoy.

“What's so fun on that paper, bruv?” the fair haired boy couldn't but call the man on it, frowning at the sight of his amused expression. He looked familiar, but Eggsy couldn't quite pinpoint when or where he could have seen some posh bastard like the one in front of him. He and those kind of men didn't go along, and whoever of them wanted a bit of fun with Dean's drugs, they would always send someone else to take care of the business.

The man looked up at him, smiled politely, and folded the newspaper. “Actually nothing, I'm afraid.”

“Then why you laughing? Aging got to yer head?”

The man tilted his head to the side., stiffling his chuckle. “It's just that I've never actually heard of anyone running two miles with a sprained ankle” he answered. “Which sounds pretty reckless and stupid, by the way.”

“And it is indeed, not stuff for old sods like ya” Eggsy checked him out, valuating if the man could cause troubles, but sensing none, he definitely noticed the little details of the man's posture. It was visibly difficult to hold up his right arm , there was blood on his pristine suit, on his once white shirt's collar and he leaned almost all his weight on his left side. He was also sitting too straight for a reading person, which meant his back had some problems too.

“Why some old posh wanker like you is here?” the man sent him what looked like a wary expression, but the boy recognized it as a warning one. A dangerous one screaming _you better shut up_. Eggsy knew when to shut up, but he didn't want to in that moment. He wanted to return the favor. “Got robbed and tried to save your wrinkled ass?”

The man smirked dangerously. “I got in a fight”, he answered. “Not a very pleasant one.”

Eggsy raised an eyebrow. “A fight? You?” he smirked, and the other weirdly enough visibly relaxed. “Those don't look like  _fight wounds_ , bruv,if you know what I mean.”

“What do you know about them, then?” the man patted the seat next to him, and even if he hesitated, Eggsy got up and sat at his right. No touching yet.

He turned on his side, trying to not hurt his ribs, and analized him. “Got hit in the head, with something made of glass” he started, noticing little pieces of glass in his brown hair. “Your right side is injuried, you either got sent flying against a wall or you fell from a high place.”

“If I told you it was the fall, would you believe me?” the man smiled sweetly, but Eggsy saw something in his eyes. Not danger, not yet, it was something different. Was it admiration? Satisfaction? Was he, maybe, impressed?

Anyway, Eggsy simply winked at him, letting his eyes fall on his neck. He understood that the blood on the collar came from a lot of little cuts on his skin, something recalling a familiar complicated scar he saw during his marine training. He shook his head slowly, disbelief openly showing on his face.

“No, you was sent flying against a wall. By an _explosion_.”

The man tensed again.

Eggsy took it as his cue to continue, the dangerous look doing nothing to him; there was something off with him and even if he knew when to mind his own business, he wanted to know.

“There are little cuts on your neck, and the skin is slightly burned. Already saw this shit, bruv. Yeah, you probably fought, but your right side got most of its injuries by the explosions. You wasn't too much close, but enough to be hurt” he recalled the unnaturalness of his posture. “Probably your back got the worst of it, innit?”

Instead of answering, the man took hold of his umbrella, left on the other seat, and looked at him in the eyes. He got warm brown eyes. “And may I ask why a boy like you shows a great knowledge about wounds like these?”

“Marines.”

“You're a soldier?”

Eggsy internally cringed when he realized what kind of information he let slip from his own mouth. “Nah” he answered gingerly. He saw that the man would wanted to ask more, so he changed the topic with a raised eyebrow. “Why you got this beaten up? Old sods should stay at home with their wives and behave like the snob wankers with a silver spoon up their arses they are.”

The man mimed his expression to the very least. “You're right, but not all of us are snob wankers.”

“You kinda look the type, though.”

Eggsy waited patiently for a reply, but instead of that the man adjusted his glasses on his nose and stood up way too quickly for the injuries he presented. Eggsy jumped back, not expecting such a fast movement, and all his body screamed in pain. Even more when he tensed, trying to not be so transparent of being taken aback by an old man.

“I have to go, my chauffeur is waiting for me outside” the man said, holding the umbrella with his left hand. He held his right hand out, probably bearing the pain better than Eggsy himself, like he was used to it and became almost indifferent. “It was a pleasure.”

Eggsy eyed the hand suspiciously, but then shook it with secret surprise at how strong the man's grip was. The pain in his body didn't subside, he found himself breathing hard instead. “Yeah, for me too.”

The man smiled. “Have a good day, Eggsy” he said last, then walked down the hall to the exit. It wasn't till he was out that Eggsy noticed something.

How the fuck did he know his name?

 

***

 

When he got home, probably still high on painkillers, Eggsy jumped on his bed. He was glad his mom and Dean were out and the baby was sleeping, so he could ask for a couple of hours for himself too.

His eyes were heavy, and he had been so gone that on his way back he bumped in most people he ever remembered to. His body was numb, felt like dizzy.

He was definitely going to sleep like a dead man if it wasn't for Daisy, waking up and starting crying in the other room. With a groan, Eggsy got up and went to calm her down, lulling her back to sleep after giving her a feeding bottle full of orange juice.

Now he could enjoy a good sleep. But before, a shower.

He closed the door of the bathroom behind him, got rid of his clothes pretty quickly and stepped in the shower cubin, releasing a small moan of pleasure when warm water washed over him. That was exactly what he needed, a warm shower to help him relax. Or at least that were his hopes, since as soon as he started to soap his body, new and stronger pain hit him like a tsunami, making him gasp for breath.

Eggsy closed the shower and kneeled down, leaning on the cold tile of the bathroom for support. When the world stopped spinning around and turning upside down, he searched for an explaination.

Later, he almost wished he didn't.

His left wrist was throbbing, as well as his chest. In strawberry red letters, nine elegant letters were showing off on his creamy skin. Nine letters forming just two words. Just one name.

_Harry Hart_ .

 

***

 

Not even a week later, Eggsy took revenge on Rottie by stealing his car.

It looked a perfect plan when he first thought about it, and for once everything was going like he hoped it would do. Which  _of course_ meant something was about to fuck up.

A fox on the road, and Eggsy was screwed.

Thinking about it later, maybe he didn't think about it that much before acting. Damn, he probably got a bit heated up and went along with the first bullshit his head created, which, by the way, had been a _fucking exciting_ bullshit. It had been a long time since he last drove backwards.

Now, in a police station, after having refused to grass his mates up, he thought about who could possibly come and take him out without knocking him down as soon as he was outside. Jamal and Ryan weren't a possibility; not even his mother was, Dean would know if he got in trouble. Hell, he probably knew already, thanks to that loose-lips of Rottie.

“Now, you could start givin' me some names of 'e boys you were with,” the police man told him, pointing at the deal on the metal table, “or you go down.”

Of course Eggsy would choose to go down for his mates. But even if he wasn't going to tell anything, staying in jail for what seemed a long while wasn't possible. He had a family to take care of. But who to call?

“It's up to ye.”

Eggsy knew that. “Well, as it's in my rights I am up to a phone call” a shrug, a cheeky gleam in his blue eyes, and the police man knew that too. He got up, took the deal, and ripped it apart in front of Eggsy's own eyes.

“Well, I hope 's to yer mom,” the cop said, fucking bastard. “To tell her ye gonna be eighteen months late for yer dinne'.”

While he walked away, Eggsy realized he really fucked up this time. He had no chance to go out of that clean and safe, he would go down, and he would go down alone. Fucking soulmate wasn't ever going to meet him again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He didn't have no choice, he was screwed, he was so fucking screwed, he was...

Wait a moment.

The medal. The fucking number on the medal. The number was to be used just for an emergency, his mom told him long time ago, and that _was indeed_ an emergency. She would understand. So he decided to try his last possibility, to delete his last doubts that maybe in the end the number on his medal was somehow useful. He almost lost it when the woman told something about calling the wrong number, but he was sure it was it, and he remember the code. The fucking code.

“Wait, wait!” he called her back, hoping to get it right. Last shot, man. “ _Oxfords, not Brogues_?”

For a moment he didn't know if he fucked up or saved his own ass, but when the woman on the other end simply replied that his 'complain' had been duly noted and that they hoped to have not lost him as a loyal customer before hanging up, he knew he was right. It was just a fucking joke, wasn't it? And now, Eggsy was going to stay all alone, for eighteen months, in jail.

Fantastic. Best thing ever happened, really.

Except that it didn't exactly end there.

Barely an hour later, he was out. Out and clean from everything, no explainations needed somewhere by someone, no grassing up, no apparent worries. What the hell? Did the fucking number actually work?

He went out of the police station, looking around warily as if someone was going to bring him back forcefully, but nope. Nothing was happening. Until...

“Eggsy,” a voice, a _familiar_ voice called. “Would you like a lift home?”

Eggsy, turning around, faced the man from the hospital. He looked at his best, imponent and composed under the sun, leaning on the walls, dark sunglasses hiding his brown eyes from him. Eggsy would have never told he was being patched up just a week before.

But why was he there? How did he know his name? What the fuck was going on?

“Who are you?” Eggsy asked, tensing.

The man tilted his head to the side. “I'm the man who got you released.”

Eggsy felt his blood boil.  _What?_ “That ain't an answer”, he replied, trying to act cool and collected. He had to keep his shit together. 

“A little gratitude would be nice”, the wanker replied, his posh accent making his voice sound even better and irritating to Eggsy's ears. He was ready to call him names, but the other cut him off. “My name is Harry Hart. I gave you that medal; your father saved my life.”

Eggsy couldn't choose by which one of the news to be shocked first. Harry Hart – his _soulmate_ – revealing himself to be the man who gave him that medal – the medal that just _saved his ass_ – and actually repeating he knew Eggsy's father, Lee Unwin. All of them seemed a good choice to panic about, and for a moment, the world spinned around.

 

***

 

They went to the pub for a pint of beer, Eggsy really needing to sit down in that moment. Finding out that the man that gave you  _the_ medal, that told you right before Christmas that your father wouldn't ever come back home, also a weird old wanker getting in fights and explotions, was your soulmate was slightly destabilizing. 

Harry didn't say anything about that, though, so Eggsy didn't bring it on immediately. He thought that asking for details about his father's life was the best thing for a while.

“Your father was a brave man. A good man.” Eggsy couldn't even stop grinning like a loon, listening to something like that from someone like Harry was indeed fantastic. “And having read your files, I'd think he'd be bitterly disappointed in the choices you've made.”

Until, _of course,_ Harry passed on chastising him for his poor life choices. Eggsy felt his blood boil once again, the older man having that reaction on him. “You can't talk to me like that,” Eggsy opposed, leaning back with disbelief and indignation.

“Huge I.Q., great performance in primary school” Harry told him, and Eggsy didn't think not for a second those words were praises. He knew the following sentences wouldn't be that kind. “And then it all went tits up.”

Eggsy choked on a scoff. He was tired of being always right, wasn't he. “Drugs, petty crimes, never had a job.”

“Oh, you think there's a lot o' jobs goin' around here, did ya?” the fair haired boy couldn't choke off his reply, though.

“Doesn't explain why you gave up your hobbies,” Harry replied smoothly, always using that grandad's scolding tone. “First prize, regional under tens' gymnastics, two years in a row. Your couch had you pegged as Olympic team material.”

Fuck, that was a sore point. How the fuck was possible his files got all those informations about him, huh? Anyway, Harry shouldn't have used it against him. It wasn't his fault, _that_.

“Yeah, well, when you grow around someone like my stepdad you pick up new hobbies pretty quick now” he commented bitterly, venom dripping from his words. It was _not_ his fault he was forced in drug dealing, forced to leave his life dream. Fuck, it definitely wasn't.

“Now of course. Always someone else's fault,” Harry didn't understand. Harry could never understand. He was only a posh fucker who happened to be his soulmate, but would he really ever understand? Eggsy didn't think so. He looked away, trying to hide his hurt. “Who's to blame for you quitting the marines?”

Eggsy knew it, he fucking knew telling him that little detail about his life that day was such a wrong move. “You were halfway through training, doing brilliantly–” no need to remember it, thanks, “–but you gave up.”

Eggsy almost growled inside his chest. He _did not_. “Because my mom went mental!” he defended himself. “Banging on about losing me as well as my dad. Then we wouldn't be cannon fobbers for snobs like you, judging people like me from your ivory towers, with no thought about why we do what we do! We ain't got much choice, you get me?” Eggsy leaned a bit closer, challenging Harry with wath sounded like a whisper. “And if we was born with the same silver spoon up our arses, we'd do just as well as you. If not better!”

He was also about to burst out the name on the wrist and chest, to yell that he was no better, fucking tailor going to beat up some idiot and getting into troubles for nothing.

“What the fuck are ya doin' 'ere? You takin' the piss?” but Rottie decided to make his appearance exactly in that moment, probably saving him from making a poor scene and promising troubles on the way.

After Poodle told him Dean gave his permission to beat him up well and good, Eggsy prayed he could come out of this alive, and preferably not hurting Harry too in the process.

The wanker, as soon as he thought that, decided to interfere. “Hum, listen, boys,” he called them. “I've had a rather emotional day, so whatever your beef with Eggsy is – and I'm sure it's well founded...”

Eggsy almost glared at him. _Woah, rude_.

“... I'd appreciate it enormously if you could just leave us in peace, until I can finish this lovely pint of Guinness.”

God damn it. Eggsy's soulmate was a suicidal imbecile. He looked up at Rottie, waiting for his response. “You should get out of 'e way, granda', of you will get 'urt on it” the guy threated, thick accent making difficult to understand those words for who wasn't used to it.

Eggsy leaned again closed to Harry. “He ain't joking, you should go” he tried to make Harry go away, because even if he looked at his best Eggsy was sure he was still in pain, even if a little bit, and a new trip to the hospital wouldn't make him any good.

Sensing his concern, Harry gave up. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, stepping in the direction of the door. Yes, Eggsy did it. He would have almost succeeded in it, if Poodle hadn't be such a show-off wanker.

“If you're looking for another rent boy, they're aroun' the corner in Smith Street.”

Eggsy ignored the insult, he was used to it. Instead, he prepared himself mentally for the beats, when Harry spoke again.

“Manners.” he started, locking the door. Rottie and his goons turned to face him. “Maketh. Man.” door locked, Harry looked at them from the golden plaque on the wall, not even moving. “Do you know what that means?” no answer came, Eggsy was freaking terrified (and also angry). “Then let me teach you a lesson.”

And then Harry proceeded to knock out Dean's goons _and_ the barman in less than five minutes, and Eggsy'd never been so hard in his life. He simply thought that if Harry asked him to get on his knees in that exact moment, he would do that without hesitation, wasn't that he was also shit scared.

Tailor his ass, really.

Harry got the nerves to finish his pint, and then fucking  _apologize_ . “Now, I do apologize, Eggsy. I shouldn't have done this in front of you” he pointed the watch with which he knocked out the barman, and the first thing Eggsy thought was  _please, don't make me forget about you_ .

“You can't do that!” he exclaimed, allarmed. How could Harry harm his soulmate? He knew Eggsy was that for him, didn't he? Eggsy held his breath; from the dangerous gleam in Harry's eyes, if he knew, he didn't want to tell. The fair haired boy changed his tactic. “No, please! I won't say nothing, I swear! If there's one thing I can do is keep my mouth shut.”

Harry was deadly serious, and still with the watch aimed at him. “You won't tell a soul?” Eggsy got the sudden feeling that he wasn't talking just about beating up some bad guys.

He assured him so, since “I've never grassed anyone up!”

“Is that a promise?”

“On my life!” last chance, Eggsy knew that. Long moments waiting for a good turn up of the events, and then finally Harry let his hand fall on his side. Eggsy breathed again.

“Much appreciated, Eggsy.”

Harry took again his umbrella, and left. Eggsy wanted to call him back, but he found out he didn't have voice anymore. He also squeezed his shoulder, so if not before he had to feel in that moment his chest tightening and the letters on his skin burning like liquid fire, but nothing transpeared on the older man's face. He left, without even turning back.

Everything made sense; the lack of discussing about it, the lack of emotions from his side.

Harry didn't want to have a soulmate, not at least. Which lead to only one conclusion.

Eggsy had been rejected.

 

***

 

Eggsy entered the shop chin up and hard eyes, almost daring Harry to kick him out after explicity telling him to come there. He stopped at a reasonable distance, and still in his challenging pose, he put his hands in the jacket pocket.

“I've never met a tailor before,” he said, serious, almost daring Harry to stop him. “But I know you ain't one.”

Harry finished his drink in one go, and after looking at the empty glass, he let it down and stood up. “Come with me” he ordered simply.

Eggsy almost jumped on his feet. Were they going to finally talk? God, he couldn't tell how much relieved he felt, to finally be able to ask why did it take so much for him. His first question would probably be what was going to happen, though, since Dean had the usual desire to kill him and his soulmate could kick ass like an agent in a fucking James Bond's movie.

He took back his thoughts minutes later. He was already getting used on changing his opinion about whatever concerned Harry Hart, though it hurt every time. That man was a fucking surprise, like in that exact moment, encouraging him to enter in what was probably a fitting room, according to the mirror. Eggsy hesitated, but he did as told.

“What do you see?” Harry asked.

Eggsy choked off a sigh. “Someone who wants to know what the fuck is going on” he decided to answer in complete honesty, because on what purpose lying to someone who could kick his ass blindfolded?

“I see a young man with potential” hearing Harry's words, Eggsy couldn't help but sag. He hoped the taboo topic could not be taboo anymore. He was wrong, another lecture on his bad choices was stored for him that night. “A young man who is loyal; who can do as he is asked and that wants to do something good with his life.”

Deep down, even if he got his mood under his feet, the praises warmed his chest a little bit. At least, Harry didn't  _seem_ to think he was a complete failure. Eggsy had been sure that  _that_ was the reason he hadn't said anything about their marks yet. 

He got distracted a bit when Harry asked if he saw some sort of a movie, but he didn't know any of them. Although he didn't watch  _Pretty woman_ on purpose. “Alright,” Harry eventually gave up. “My point is that the lack of the silver spoon has set you on a certain path, but you needn't stay on it” that picked Eggsy's interest. “If you're prepared to adapt, and learn, you can transform.”

In the mirror was clear the moment when Eggsy's frown cleared for something like realization. “Oh, like in  _My Fair Lady_ !” he said, not even making it a question. He got the point, yeah. And  _oh_ , wasn't the admission he watched that worth the smile on Harry's face? He looked happy, surprised; fond, even. 

“Well, you're full of surprises” Harry praised. Eggsy felt even better. “Yes, like in _My Fair Lady_. And in this case, I'm offering you the opportunity to become a Kingsman.”

Eggsy narrowed his eyes, biting his lips. A Kingsman? “A tailor?” as if Harry was one. Eggsy was deliberately teasing him.

“A Kingsman agent.”

There. There it was. The admission that  _yes_ , there was something off with this man. Eggsy felt eager to know more. “Like a  _spy_ ?”

An amused gleam shined in Harry's eyes, but his expression stayed dead serious. Eggsy wanted to learn how to do it. “Of sorts” the man conceded. “Interested?”

Eggsy was tempted to laugh. Interested? Him? In a fucking job spy? Of course not! Why? Let's go back home to an abusive stepfather, a sister and a mother who he couldn't protect as he wanted to, risking to be killed at any moment just for a bit fun, committing crimes in order to not jeopardize his family's lifes, now also rejected by his soulmate who casually saved his ass thrice in a day and was offering him the job of his life!

He wished he could tell him everything that was going on through his mind. He wish he could call Harry out on his awful behavior. He wished he could actually have anything good in his life that could last. But he couldn't, so he opted for the easiest option.

“You think I've got anything to lose?”

 

***

 

“Did you know that Eggsy's got a soulmate?” Harry didn't look up from the book he was reading when Merlin came in his office, already expecting a lecture from his dear friend.

“Oh, does he?” he played dumb instead.

Merlin stopped in front of him, but instead of speaking again he put his tablet on top of his book. On the screen there were two pictures: one of Eggsy's chest, and the other of Eggsy's wrist, both adorned of two words written in strawberry red elegant italic letters.

Harry's heart missed a bit when he saw it was his name, even if he already knew it.

The tech should have got the pictures during the water room test, which meant Eggsy slept shirtless. Harry didn't know the reason why his mind found that thought particularly interesting.

“You have it too, don't you?” Merlin asked again. It was formally a question, but Harry knew it was just a pretence. Merlin already knew everything he needed to.

“Yes” he confessed anyway, for good measures. “Yes, I do.”

“Have you already discussed about it?”

Harry decided that he couldn't keep ignoring his friend anymore. He put the tablet away and closed the book, took off his glasses and rubbed tiredly his eyes. “We didn't even mention the fact that we are soulmates.”

Merlin blinked. “You're not serious.”

Harry sighed. “I am,” he retorted. “Eggsy looked like he wanted to, actually, but I did not. So no, we haven't discussed it yet.”

The tech restrained himself from choking the kingsman to death. “You do realize that you  _rejected_ him, do you?” 

Harry gave him an evil eye. “I did not reject him” he firmly objected. “Not yet. Merlin, that kid is half my age. I met him when he was  _a kid_ ! I told him his father  _died_ ! How can I accept this so easily? I ruined his life” he messed his own hair with a hand. “Offering him the same choice his father had, the opportunity to make things better... it's my only way to repay him. When he'll become Lancelot–”

“ _If_ ”, Merlin corrected. 

“ _If_ he becomes Lancelot, we will deal with this problem then.” 

Merlin studied him. God, Harry Hart was one hell of an idiot sometimes. “Eggsy seems a good lad, Harry” he mumbled in the end. “Try not to ruin everything.”

Harry didn't reply. He was against promising something he couldn't be sure to comply.

 

***

 

Eggsy spent weeks in Harry's medical room. There was nothing worse than looking at your soulmate in coma and not knowing when he would wake up.

He trained JB, he succeded trial after trial, he was one of the first, and he did it to the final six candidates. As Merlin suggested, he tried everything to make Harry proud, and yet he was so damn nervous that day.

After days and days of waiting, he could finally see him again, see him smiling, hear his voice, look into his whiskey warm eyes.

He hesitated once again, took a deep breath, and opened the door, entering without knocking.

“Ever heard of knocking?” of course, the first thing Harry would do was calling him out on his manners. He almost forgot about that.

“Only when I'm casing a place to rob” Eggsy replied smoothly, no shame at all in his voice, not even sarcasm. It was true, it was his job a long time ago. JB followed his steps easily. “Merlin told me you wanted to see me” and the pug agreed with a loud noise.

Harry turned slowly, looking at first at the dog. “Hope JB's training is going as well as yours is.”

Again the praises made his chest warm. He glared at JB. “Sit”, he ordered. Good dog, he obeyed immediately, and pride swelled Eggsy's chest like he was a peacock. Harry didn't seem to mind, smiling at him fondly.

“Congratulations on making it to the final six candidates,” Harry continued, coming closer but still not enough to touch. “Your tests' results were even better that I could've ever hoped.”

For a moment, Eggsy thought that he could do it. He could talk about the taboo topic in that exact moment, since Harry seemed so keen on praising him and acting like Eggsy really mattered for him.

But then someone knocked on the door, and the chance went out of the door when it opened.

“Oh, Eggsy” Merlin looked at him, not really surprised to see him there.

Eggsy choked off a sigh.

 

***

 

“ _FUCK YEAH!_ ”

The train passed. Eggsy waited for the pain to come, or the sound to be cut off, because he was dead, right? He should not have felt his heart beating wildly in his chest anymore, he should not have felt his lungs struggle for air.

But then he opened his eyes, and he saw the piece of trails on which he was bound was under the effective train tracks. When he turned up, he saw Harry  _fucking_ Hart standing in front of him with a knife. 

Eggsy's first thought wasn't “fuck, I'm alive”.

It was “fuck, I've a hard on in front of him.  _Again_ ”. But it was normal, innit? There was adrenaline pumping in his veins, danger had that effect on him. He would bet his dinner everyone had that reaction, if they didn't piss in their trousers. 

“Congratulations,” Harry said, standing Eggsy's death glare with his usual control. His voice never faltered. “Bloody well done.”

Eggsy huffed, looking down on the trails. Yeah, it was a test. It was a bloody test, everything a test. He wished he could just punch Harry in that calm, composed, passionless face, but maybe it would turn out it was another test. He tried to find something to say, until he settled on a simple question. “How'd the others do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

“Roxy passed with flying colours,” good girl. “Charlie's up next,” and oh, was that a little smirk? Old bastard was amused to see Eggsy in that situation. “Want to watch?”

Eggsy wriggled his wrist against the ropes' hold. “Yeah, a'right” he did sound petulant, like a child, and maybe he was pouting too, but it was just fair, right? Everything was so fucking ununderstandable. Especially now, since Harry freed him, so by no chance he missed his name written on the soft skin on Eggsy's wrist. And again, he said nothing.

Eggsy suddenly felt like he needed to throw up.

 

***

 

“To pee or not to pee?” Eggsy couldn't believe he was asking Harry what the fuck those titles meant. He was in his office, red walls covered in first pages of _The Sun_ , and till that moment they almost didn't have talked at all. Eggsy had just the time to change from his pub clothes, then he walked directly in there, and looked around. 

Harry explained that behind every of those pages there was a mission in which he succeded, and Eggsy thought that he was a top agent, since there were so many.

“The point is, Eggsy, nobody thanked me for any of them” he said, turning around on his chair. Eggsy focused for a brief moment on the white shirt he wore, and man, didn't he have pecs. He also suddenly found out that shoulder holsters were a big turn on for him, since the hard on from the train test hadn't subsided yet.

“Front pages news and all these occasions are celebrities' nonsense,” Harry looked at Eggsy. “Because it's the nature of Kingsman that our achievements remain secrets.”

Eggsy nodded, understanding the point of it all.

“A gentleman's name should appear in the newspaper only three times,” the old man went on. “When he's born, when he marries and when he dies. And we are first, and foremost, gentlemen.”

Eggsy sighed, leaning back on the chair, his face falling into self-consciousness. “It's me fucked then. It's like Charlie said, I'm just a pleb.”

Harry shook his head once. “Nonsense,” he replied firmly. “Being a gentleman has nothing to do with circumstances of one's birth. Being a gentleman is something one learns.”

Eggsy felt hope blossoming in his chest. Maybe not everything was lost before having it. “Yeah, but how?”

Harry played along. “Alright, first lesson” he said. “You should have asked me before you took your seat.”

There, Eggsy failed again. He let his head fell back, his eyes finding the floor extremely interesting.

“Second lesson,” Harry added. “How to make a proper martini.”

Eggsy wanted to laugh. What? James Bond stuff? Like, proper spy stuff like in the movies? God, that was a thing he wanted to do since he was a kid! “Yes, Harry!” he agreed, finding the good mood once again and standing up.

And that was how Eggsy found himself definitely less sober after two martini and half, and not three since Harry stopped him from downing the third all in once and instead kept it for himself. “Let's try again,” he said, showing him again how to make it. “Eggsy, you have to  _stir_ it. You're not making eggs, you're  _stirring_ a  _martini_ .”

“But what if I want eggs now?” Eggsy retorted, pouting. “I mean, they're good, right?”

Harry eyed him warily. “Yes, I suppose they are” he agreed. “Now, turn back to--”

But the fair haired boy wasn't listening to him anymore.

“If you think eggs are good too, then why am I not?” the question slipped from his lips before Eggsy could even know it. He didn't want to ask that, but now it was done, so he assumed he was drunker than he thought. Yeah, probably that. Enough with the martinis.

Harry froze, his face accurately blank.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Should not beg me for anything, bruv” Eggsy shoved the martini glass away. “Just answer. Why am I not good enough for you?”

Harry frowned. “Eggsy, I've never said anything like that” he opposed. Eggsy almost sobbed, a sad grin splitting his face in half and not reaching his eyes.

“Then tell me why you never recognized me as your soulmate, Harry” the boy stood up, wobbling slightly. “Do you have another soulmate? Do you have another name on your skin and choose them instead of me? Am I the one on the wrist, hidden under your watch, or the secret one on your chest? Not that it actually matters, anyway” yes, there were tears in his eyes. Eggsy wished he could delete them; crying was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Harry Hart in that moment.

“I don't” Harry's voice was softer. He saw the tears too.

“Then why did you reject me?” Eggsy's was now barely reduced to a whisper. Harry stood up as well, and in two long steps he was in front of Eggsy, cupping his face with both hands and leaning into his space. The marks on Eggsy's skin started to burn like damn fire on his skin, but he didn't complain.

“Eggsy, you have to understand that we can't do this” Harry breathed shakily, closing his eyes.

“Bollocks, Harry” the young man was having none of that. “We've got the marks. We _can_.”

“I _can't_.” Harry looked at him again, frozing him under his hard, yet suffering, glare. “I...” the words died on his lips. Harry was broken, just like Eggsy was. He wanted Eggsy, just like Eggsy wanted him. 

Maybe he was too drunk for that, but the fair haired boy still didn't get why he couldn't do it. The only thing Eggsy wanted to do was kiss him, why couldn't they do that instead? Yeah, kissing was good. Kissing was right.

So he didn't think twice – or better, he didn't think at all – before pressing his soft lips against Harry's. The older man inhaled sharply, and Eggsy was ready to retreat, when the hands on his face tightened their hold and Harry kissed him back.

No, he didn't kiss him. He  _devoured_ him. 

Right three seconds later his tongue was in Eggsy's mouth, and Eggsy didn't mind a bit. Harry explored every single inch of his mouth, he licked him thoroughly, he pressed him against the closest wall. Eggsy moaned loudly, his belly warming up pleasantly, and he started to rut against Harry's body unconsciously, searching for friction. He held on Harry's shoulders for dear life, angling his head  _just right_ , and Harry absolutely tasted him till the very end. 

He bit his lip, he sucked his tongue, and even if it was a mess of teeth and tongue, Eggsy never liked a kiss more in his life. He was opening so well and willingly beneath Harry that the older man seriously thought about never letting him go. Hiding under the blankets in his room for the rest of their lifes, together, without any problem to keep them apart. It sounded indeed a good plan.

When Harry pulled back, the old man could admire his good job. Eggsy's lips were red and swollen, looking devoured enough for only one kiss. Even if they were now even a bigger temptation than before.

How was Harry supposed to stay away from him now that he knew how Eggsy tasted like? Now that he knew what kind of sounds he made when he was kissed like that?

“Harry, I–” Eggsy wanted to confess it. At least once, right there, pressed between the wall and Harry's warm body.

“No,” replied the kingsman. “No, don't say it.”

Eggsy blinked. “What?”

“I know what you're trying to say” Harry let him go, and Eggsy felt cold. “We shouldn't have done this, Eggsy, it was a mistake.”

“This? You mean the kiss?”

“Yes, I mean the kiss” Harry didn't expect the punch that connected Eggsy's right fist with Harry's left cheekbone. Actually, it looked like even Eggsy didn't expect it, like both of them thought he was too drunk to do that. Especially since he was drunk enough to kiss Harry and not feel guilty about it; not that there was a reason to. The boy was crying once again, and he looked at his own painful fist with disbelief.

“I think I'll go, now” Eggsy mumbled, shocked. Without even bothering a _goodbye_ , Eggsy left the living room to go to his bedroom, Harry's guest room. He threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes, crying silently.

He didn't know that Harry Hart was trying not to do the same, apparently in vain. Light salty tears were sliding down his cheeks. In the end he did what Merlin feared.

He ruined everything.

 

***

 

Eggsy was ready to fight when he closed Harry's front door behind him.

He was on the verge of tears, he was angry, he was desperate, he was so damn resigned. He fucked up big this time. No numbers and old men with umbrellas to save him.

Harry looked fairly raged, even if he didn't lose his composed aspect, his left cheekbone still purple from the bruise of Eggsy's punch. “You throw away your biggest opportunity over a fucking dog” was the first thing that he said to him. Nothing else, as if he didn't remotely commanded a kingsman's taxy to his house in order to stop Eggsy from beating his step father after failing the last test because his mom got a new shiner. “And _then_ you humiliate me by stealing my boss' car.”

Eggsy snarled. “You shot a dog just to get a fucking job!”

That was another thing he was angry on about. Arthur asked him to shoot JB. He asked him to shoot his best friend after assigning the little pug to him. What kind of freaks were they? He recognized the gun as blank, but for fuck's sake, did they really think he was that stupid? There was a plastic _sheet_ on the carpet, the kind that was used to not stain anything, and it certainly was for _blood_. JB was far too closer to him to not come out of it seriously injuried or even dead. Arthur was a fucking monster.

Harry stayed composed like every time. “Yes, I did” he climbed off the stairs and opened the door of his loo, showing Eggsy a shelf on which there was a stuffed dog. “And Mr. Pickle here reminds me of that every time I take a shit!”

Eggsy was left speechless. He was horrified. “You shot your dog and had it stuffed?” Eggsy couldn't believe his fucking _soulmate_ could do something like that. “You fucking freak!”

Harry didn't react that much. “No, I shot my dog and then brough him home and continued to care for him for the next 11 years until he died of pancreatitis.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mr. Pickle _didn't_ die? Why? He was sure... “What?”

“It was a blank, Eggsy.” Harry sighed, disappointment clear on his face. Yeah, he knew that himself, thank you very much. “It was a fucking blank. Remember Amelia?”

Eggsy nodded. “Yeah.” and what was with her now? She died too, didn't she?

“She didn't drown.” or maybe not. “She works in out tech department in Berlin. She's fine.” his tone almost sounded light. “Limits might be tested. A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.”

Well, Harry should have told that to fucking Arthur, because the head of the Round Table seemed to have fucking forgotten. Fact was, that now Eggsy could have said a lot of things. He could have said that he knew Kingsman would, but probably Arthur was so against him he cheated. JB wouldn't survive his test, and Eggsy was at least sure of that. He could have asked Harry for forgiveness, and maybe begged him not to leave him, since they were soulmates. But he did nothing of that.

No, because he felt suddenly too much angry with Harry. Harry, who even if he had his name on his chest and wrist ignored him and rejected him without a second thought; Harry who didn't have a right excuse to do so, not after proposing him as his protégé; Harry, who probably ruined his life since the beginning, when he fucked up, and that now was so disappointed in him he probably wouldn't even listen to him. Afterall, who would?

Harry was now probably thinking it was all a mistake, proposing Eggsy was a mistake, and Eggsy couldn't have it. Couldn't have Harry believing he wasn't worth his time.

Blood boiled inside his veins and Eggsy saw red.

“My dad might have saved your life, even though your fuck-up cost his?” he growled, perfectly conscious of touching a sore point. Hurt flashed in Harry's eyes. “What, you've got him stuffed here and all?”

Harry didn't answer immediately. “Can't you see that everything I've done has been about trying to repay him?”

No, of course he couldn't. Eggsy couldn't bear that knowledge, but Harry just admitted it all. He had been rejected, and the only reason he had ever been proposed for Kingsman wasn't because he was a man with potential, or because Harry loved him and wanted to keep him by his side. No, it was because Harry _fucking_ Hart owed it to Lee Unwin for saving his life all those years ago.

Eggsy felt like he couldn't breath. He was ready to apologize, to say _something_ , when Harry's glasses beeped, and he answered Merlin's call. The fair haired boy stayed silent, letting the older man to listen to his handler. After a while, he spoke.

“South Glade Mission Church” he whispered. “Merlin, get the plane ready.”

What? Harry was leaving? For where? Fuck, Eggsy couldn't waist another second. “Harry, I am so sorry, I am goin' to do everything–”

Harry cut him off. “You should be” he retorted, voice ice cold. “You just stay here, I'll sort this mess up when I get back.”

And then Harry left.

 

***

 

Eggsy knew that hacking Harry's laptop to watch his mission through his glasses' feed was the worst idea he could ever have, but he couldn't help himself.

He sensed that something was off with the mission, he felt adrenaline running in his system as if he was in danger – or _Harry_ was – but couldn't understand why, or how. That was, until Harry shoot the woman straight in the head.

It was nothing like it had been in the Black Prince all those months ago. No, Harry was still an armonious killing machine, but he didn't have any control. He was him and at the same time was another person at all, and Eggsy felt his stomach clutching in anxiety. He needed his soulmate back, something was going extremely wrong.

Harry stopped only when everyone in the church was dead. In less than three minutes, all those people had died, killed by a Kingsman. Oh, fuck. Eggsy tried to understand how he could talk through Harry's glasses and beg him to not commit the most idiot mistake he could do – exit through the front door – but when he found it it was already too late.

Harry was out, and in front of him there was Richmond Valentine with his personal assistant Gazelle. Harry, always an agent first, managed to record his direct confession, but Eggsy still was waiting for the man to put out some new little gadget and run away from death.

“You know what this is like?” Valentine said, smirking. “It's like those old movies we both love. Now, I'm going to tell you my whole plan, and then I'm going to come up with some absurd and convoluted way to kill you, and you'll find an equal convoluted way to escape.”

Eggsy's heart was beating wildly in his chest, almost blocking out every other sound from it ringing in his ears.

“Sounds good to me” Harry replied. Yeah, it sounded good to Eggsy too, if he had to be honest.

Except that Valentine stopped smiling. “Well, this ain't that kind of movies”, he pointed a gun to Harry's head, and shot.

While the feed turned to show him the sky, Eggsy found himself screaming.

 

***

 

Eggsy adjusted his cufflinks with slow movements, walking closer to the man on the floor, choking on his own blood. He stepped aside Gazelle's body, reached his and towered over him, dark hard glare in his blue eyes.

“'Sup, man?” Valentine ranted. “Is this the part where you say some... really bad pun?”

Oh, how much Eggsy would have liked to come up with something witty to say in that moment. Except that he couldn't think of anything that wasn't Harry getting shot in the head.

“As like you said to Harry”, the young boy announced, leaning closer. “This ain't that kind of movie, bruv.”

Valentine grinned. With his last breath, he managed a “Perfect.”

Eggsy didn't hesitate; he went away to free the sweden Princess, as promised, and the other prisoners, as he had to, and brought them back to Merlin's plane. He had to keep his mind off some certain unpleasant thoughts, but everything he did wasn't enough to distract him.

“Are you alright, lad?” Merlin asked him when they were back at HQ. Eggsy nodded.

He grieved Harry, of course. He screamed and cried and drank when he was still in his house, then he got back to work. He killed Arthur. He saved the world. He made Harry proud, like Merlin said.

He got nothing left, now. The marks on his body turned into ugly scars, and he didn't look at them anymore. He asked the tech when they could take Harry's body back, and Merlin told him they already sent someone, aka Roxy, to do it.

Eggsy accepted the decision. He decided to do a quick check in the med quarters, then he took a spare room and slept there. He didn't want to turn back to Harry's for a while. Not without the man in it.

 

***

 

It was past midnight when it happened.

At first, it was just a weird sensation, but then, it turned into a scorching one.

It was like having fire on his chest and wrist, and Eggsy woke up with a pained moan, allarmed. He didn't want Harry's name to delete itself from his skin. No, he wanted that mark. No other soulmate, just him, dead or not. He squirmed in pain, trying to understand what was happening, until the pain subsided and a tickling sensation made him shiver.

The marks weren't burning anymore.

Eggsy was afraid of looking, for the first ten minutes. Then he took his courage, and glanced down.

His heart missed several beats at the sight of the marks restored like Harry was alive again. They turned shining and fresh, and that had just one explaination.

When he ran into Merlin's office in just his pajamas screaming, “Harry is alive!”, he found out he was right.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded, tears in his eyes. “He is.”

 

***

 

When Harry woke up, the first thing he thought was that he was alive.

Breathing, heart beating, body numb in pain, throat burning from a plastic tube helping him to breath normally.

The second thing he thought was _Eggsy_.

He remembered clearly a pained scream when he fell on the ground, and that scream was so similar to Eggsy's, he knew without a doubt the young man had seen him die.

He almost left him alone. He almost died and destroyed Eggsy's soul only because raged as he had been he didn't think of bringing a collegue with him on a mission instead of going alone. Merlin would ask for his head, he could bet on it.

So, when the tech indeed came in the room and watched at him apparently emotionless, Harry was surprised. “Oh, fuck,” Merlin cursed, not really sounding sorry. “Eggsy's going to bitch about that for _hundreds years_.”

Harry blinked. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse and whimpering from the plastic tube. “Where's he?”

“Russia. Sent him on a mission yesterday, he tried to stay because he was waiting for you to wake up, but Lancelot was already busy, so he was the only recruit available.”

He couldn't decide if it was best feeling happy, or sad. Eggsy was an agent. He was a Kingsman, and he didn't need Harry's help to sort his mess out, the boy was his own man, he 'got his shit together'. In the end, Gary Eggsy Unwin demonstrated to be the best soulmate Harry could have ever hoped for, and suddenly, the kingsman agent felt incredibly stupid for complicating their lifes like that, for being so fucking cruel. Eggsy deserved a good make up dinner.

But he wasn't even there; he was on a mission and – if Merlin's tone was anything to go by – it was going to be a long one.

“He'll try to come back” Roxanne Morton made her appearance on Harry's door, smiling politely at the sight of the older agent in the bed. She looked like she just finished her check, since her right arm was covered in bandages. “Eggsy will try to finish it in record time.”

“Well, he already promised me to hate me for life, but if he can _finish_ what's supposed to be a six month's deep undercover mission, I will be gladly surprised.”

Harry smiled, and spoke before Lancelot could reply. “Dare him to do it, and he will, Merlin” the man coughed. “You trained both the men yourself; you perfectly now to never challenge an Unwin, especially Eggsy.”

 

***

 

Eggsy finished the mission two months earlier than anyone could hope. He knew Harry Hart would anyway be awaken and recovered by the time he came back, but that didn't mean he didn't try his best.

Okay, fine, he did come back with a bigger amount of injueries he would have liked to admit, but Eggsy was perfectly willing to pay a little prize for having back his soulmate, wasn't he?

And _oh_ , wasn't he worth it. Eggsy all but ran to the dining room in the shop, stopping by Roxy's side in front of the door, and took a deep breath. “His first meeting as Arthur?” Eggsy asked.

Roxy nodded. “He's recovered just fine” she assured. “He nearly doesn't even need the cane anymore.”

“I bet he fucking hates it.”

“Oh, you're perfectly right” Roxy sent him a playful smirk. “Almost knocked Merlin's head off last time he tried to get rid of it and he blocked him.”

Eggsy laughed, a bit of tension easing from his chest. He was still breathing hard, though. “Ready?” his best friend asked. He shook his head. “Great. It will be easier this way then.”

Eggsy turned to face her, but he barely managed to ask stupidly “what?” before Roxanne fucking Morton opened the door and shoved him inside without waisting words.

Harry's head snapped up when he stumped into the room, secretly cursing his sprained ankle, and came to a stop in front of the “round” table. Merlin wasn't there, which meant they had a bit of time for themself before the meeting started if Roxy closing the door behind him was anything to go by.

The older man at the head of the table slowly stood up, his eyes never leaving Eggsy's frame, instead drinking in his sight like a thirsty dying man lost among sand dunes. He looked like he never left: soft brown hair styled in an elegant posh wave, thin lips mostly tensed in a line, the classic posture of someone who was in complete control, no worries around, no troubles, everything alright. The only difference was a sort of bandage-eyepatch on one of his whiskey eyes, his left one.

Eggsy swallowed. “Is it gone?” he asked in a low whisper. The older man seemed confused for the first five seconds.

“What– Oh, no. No, it's fine. It's recovering faster that the doctors thought, Kingsman's expensive technology repaired both eyesock and eye with the only collateral effect of a future ugly white scar” the new Arthur shrugged. It was such an ungentlemanly thing to do it warmed Eggsy up in the chest instantly.

He nodded in understanding, then kept silent, waiting for the other man to say something or ask anything he wanted to. Harry in fact searched for something to say, but the emotion he currently felt of having his soulmate in front of him alive, almost not harmed at all, was too overwelming.

The fair haired boy looked curiously how he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, until he settled on neutral ground. “I reckon old habits die hard” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

Eggsy frowned, not really understanding what Harry was referring to. The other pointed at his bad ankle. “I thought running two miles with a sprained ankle was reckless and stupid” Harry explained. “But running _five_ was indeed the worst idea you could ever come up with.”

The young boy felt a blush creeping down his face to his neck and chest, the latter hidden under the suit suddenly too hot; his ears were deep red too. Harry found it adorable. “I couldn't exactly wait the block around my nearest safe house to be safe for the back up to come and take me” he admitted. “So I opted for a quick run at the second one, knowing I would wait less time.”

Harry sent him a scolding look, greatly ruined by the fondness in his dark warm eye. “Eggsy, promise me not to do that again.”

Eggsy had the guts to actually grin. “Sorry, bruv, can't do that” he shook his head. “Got a new dangerous job, what danger would it be if I couldn't take a bit of risk?”

“A bit is _fine_ , a lot is _stupid_. Learn the difference, Eggsy” Harry stepped around the table to stand three metres away from him, walking slowly so he could leave the cane against the wall at the end of the room. Eggsy pretended to huff in annoyance, but now that Harry was closer, he missed the warming feeling of his body against his.

“I'm not the only one who should learn it” he mumbled, a sting on his chest reminding him of how things were going between them the last time they saw each other. For a moment, he thought he heard Harry's breath stopping in his lungs, and he was right, looking at how the man decided to release it in a deep sigh.

“Eggsy, I...” for a moment, a horrible awful moment, Eggsy thought he stepped over the line. Then, as his feet moved on their own accord, he thought ' _is there actually a line between the two of us that we haven't stepped over yet?_ '

He didn't let Harry finish, nor his own mind give him an answer. With three powerful strides – and a sprained ankle hurting like a bitch – he threw his arms around Harry's neck, burying his face against the crook between the latter and his shoulder, and held on for dear life. “Don't” he pleaded. “I just want everything to be okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry.”

Harry froze. The hard lines of Eggsy's body fit perfectly against his in a way that left him unable to think. He slowly put his hands on Eggsy's waist, and the young boy probably thought he was going to pull him away, because he gripped his jacket tighter and pressed against him so much he felt his lips plastered on the warm skin of his neck.

Harry tried his everything not to shiver.

“No, Harry, please” Eggsy sobbed. “Don't make me go away again. Don't leave me again.”

Harry felt his heart clutch in a solid painful grasp, and without even realizing it he hugged Eggsy back, hiding his own face against him as Eggsy's body became warmer and warmer because of tears.

“I won't, Eggsy” Harry whispered, his arms clasped tightly behind his back. “I'm never going to leave you again.”

 

***

 

They needed time, of course.

Time to get used to have each other in their life all day long, to heal from the wounds their mean words left in their souls, to learn how to let their feelings show.

In Harry's opinion, Eggsy was a natural. His desire to love and to be loved was being satisfied everyday, and even if they hadn't yet been together in the biblical sense, Eggsy managed to make every wake up in _their_ bed so domestic it was like they haven't ever done anything different. He was cheeky, he knew when to comfort and when to tease, he was capable of helping Harry through his issues without asking for anything back.

Harry was the one who still got problems for the first time, and who's fault was to argue and yell instead of just sit down and talk. The older knight, now Arthur, had never had a _family_ before, a family just on his own, since his parents died when he was in his training in Kingsman. Merlin was to be considered his only close friend, too.

So Harry had really a hard work to do to let Eggsy inside of him, to open his heart to him without holding back. They managed to work it out, however; they even convinced Michelle that Harry would be no danger next to Eggsy, and that it was okay if she wanted to leave Daisy with them at their place when she was at work, because Harry was majestic with kids and both Daisy and Eggsy loved him for that.

Eggsy also had a lot of chances to see Harry's marks, and seeing his name on his lover's skin was so emotional the first time he did he cried. Harry lulled him to sleep with sweet truths and a smile on his face, his fingers tracing his name on Eggsy's wrist. Yeah, in the end, they were happy.

The only thing that still missed was sex.

It was patent everyone knew it in a secret spy agency, but Harry didn't have problems with lack of privacy. No, he really couldn't bear to be _teased_ about it.

Merlin and Percival kept complaining about being hard to breath in their same room during a meeting because of the amount of sexual tension in the air; Roxy kept harassing playfully Eggsy about details when Harry was with them as if he couldn't hear them, and Eggsy went to sigh dreamily and invent every sort of kinky detail to pretend to sob sadly over being still “virgin”.

“Harry, pleeeaaaase” he whined one night in their bed, trying to get rid of their pajamas while rutting his hard on against Harry's hip. “I already wanked too much on you, I can't do it anymore! Even me hand is a better soulmate than you are, just _fuck me_ already!”

And Harry, pure soul he was, grabbed his wrists, pinned him down on the mattress and kissed his breath away, mouth hard and punishing, leaving him panting with his cock even harder than before aching in his pants. “Eggsy, you must remember that your ribs aren't recovered yet, and you curse that sprained ankle of yours every day” the older man chastised him, serious and fond at the same time. “I won't touch you in the biblical sense until you will be considered clinically recovered.”

Clarified that, he let him go in order to hug him from behind, explicity ignoring the young man rubbing himself in his pants to ease a bit his hard on.

“Harry _fucking_ Hart, you're such a bloody tease” Eggsy pouted, angling his body in a better position in front of Harry's, fitting perfectly between his arms. Harry didn't answer, but kissed him on the hairline behind his neck fondly, very much so.

 

***

 

The day Eggsy was dismissed as clinically recovered and available for new assignments, was the same day the doctors remouved Harry's eyepatch.

The young man couldn't stay still on his feet at the sight of both Harry's warm brown eyes looking at him as if they were smiling, taking in the sight of him in all his beauty (he never stopped repeating him so after that day, much to Eggsy's joy). “It will still be sensible to the light for a few days, but unless the passage from darkness to lightness isn't too drastic, you should be fine, but the headaches will remain.”

Harry had no complains; what were headaches against being able to see from both his eyes? Just a little prize to pay. For an hour or so the colours were still too bright from his left eye, but things turned slowly to normality, so he didn't accept Merlin's advice to still take a day off.

“You shouldn't tire your eye on paperwork and reports its very first day” the tech had scolded him. “Go home, Harry, and enjoy your last day with Eggsy. Tomorrow he will receive another assignment.”

Harry didn't give in with him. But he did indeed when it was Eggsy the one who was asking, and in a very efficent mode. “Harry, for fuck's sake, I swear on my mom's life if ya ain't coming with me I'm going to buy a fucking vibrator and have my fun all alone at home. You won't touch me for the rest of my period away.”

Harry blinked.

Then, very calmly, he stood up and told Merlin he was taking that day off right now.

 

***

 

Eggsy was being pressed against the closed door in the hallway without even having the time to actually take off his coat and shoes. His eyes were shut, and Harry clearly heard him gasp, but he gulped down that soft sound with hunger, and made his way inside the blond's warm mouth. Their tongues met halfway, a wave of lust shooting through their bodies like liquid fire.

Harry sighed satisfyingly as he enjoyed that moment, licking Eggsy's mouth without hesitation in a way as dirty and filthy he could think.

“Gentlemen don't kiss like that” the muffled words against his mouth were almost incomprehensible, but Harry got them right. He growled like an animal in response, lust and heat pooling in his stomach.

“Yes, they _fucking_ do.”

Eggsy parted their mouth a second time with a husky chuckle, his eyes still half closed. He glances at Harry through his eyelashes and grinned, breathing heavily. “You filthy old man” he accused.

Harry bit roughly his lip in spite, but the young man quickly returned the favor making the other's breath hitch in his throat and his stomach clutch pleasantly and _oh_ , weren't they both turned on by that more then they wanted to admit.

The hands pulling at his hair grew their grip stronger, almost painful, but Harry didn't complain as far as he was kissing the living daylights out of him.

In that new kiss, thought, both Eggsy and Harry found themself fighting for charge. They turned the kiss itself in a war of teeth and tongue, as Harry licked Eggsy's palate and Eggsy breathed heavily against his mouth, panting breathlessly, tasting expensive brandy, something bittersweet and something that was definitely Harry.

Eggsy pulled harder at his hair, and Harry bit his lips roughlier than before to punish him, making the blond whimper in pleasure and pain. They weren't sure how much they've been kissing like that, but none of them wanted to part, not even Eggsy who was waiting for the following part since Harry came back from the dead.

Harry left one of his hips to bring his hand under his face. His fingers traced fondly his jawline, pressed against the back of his neck and stayed there, pulling him closer while he himself was deliberately devouring him as if they weren't completely plastered against one another.

Eggsy moaned into the kiss at that, not caring at how the older man was now capable of listening to the rushing pulse of Eggsy's heart under his fingertips, and the other moaned as well, never having enought of it.

It was rushed, it was hungry, needing and wanting, but it was warm, and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Another bit, another lick, another tease. Eggsy tried to angle his head better and force himself on Harry to take charge of the kiss, but Harry was having none of that.

He kissed him back hard, his teeth teasing his oversensitive lips, his tongue thrusting against his in a sweet rhythm that had Eggsy gone after barely three minutes. The young boy submissed without other thoughts, leaving to Harry the possibility to fuck him with his mouth and have him whimpering and squirming beneath his own body.

“ _Harry_ ” Eggsy sobbed, pleading clear in his cracking voice. “Please, Harry. _Fuck_ , stop teasing...”

Harry noticed only in that moment that the young man was so damn gone he couldn't but rut himself against Harry's thigh, the one which he slotted between his parting legs. He shivered at the feeling of Eggsy's cock pressed against him, hard and throbbing, probably leaking in his pants.

He couldn't but grab a handful of his arse and lift him against the door, slotting his cock against his own and pressing down hard, rubbing their hard ons still inside their suit trousers and solleciting a loud, long moan from his throat.

“ _Oohhh_ , fuck me” Eggsy cried out, his head hitting the door with a muffled bump.

Harry licked a wet stripe from his collarbone to his jawline. “That's the purpose, darling.”

He spent long eternal minutes kissing along Eggsy's throat, biting down the soft flesh and soothing the sting with his tongue right after. He took off Eggsy's suit tie and opened his shirt's buttons with just one hand, everything while still giving him the right damn friction, and he could tell Eggsy was so damn turned on by now that his cock was aching, if his little whines were anything to go by.

“ _Please_ ” the fair haired boy repeated. Well, Harry couldn't deny he knew how to beg, but it was so good he was excused if he wanted to listen to more of it.

He grabbed Eggsy through his trousers and stroked unmercifully, drawing self pleasure from the way he arched against the door. “Please what, my dear boy?” he asked sweetly, teeth marking the skin on his collarbone hard enough it was already bruising. He sucked it right after to make up for the pain.

Eggsy made a weird sound, something between a wail and a whine, so weird he didn't even know he was capable of making it, and he blushed deep down his chest for the pleasure of Harry's eyes and mouth. “Please, Harry, _more_ ” he moaned, his voice broken. “Give me more, give me your- _aah!_ ”

Opening the fly of his trousers had been a little difficult, distracted as his was, but as soon as he closed his fist around Eggsy's cock, spurts of precum leaked from the slit onto his hand. Harry didn't stroke, it was too uncomfortable in that position, but he did smear the precum on the head of his cock, making the young boy whimper.

“Harry! Harry, _fuck_ , please, I need your cock” he whined. “I need your cock in me, I need it now, please, fuck me! Can't do this anymore, can't stand teases, 'm already so fuckin' close... I'm–”

Well, wasn't that an interesting detail. Harry gripped him tighter. “Are you close to your release, my dear boy?” he repeated, looking right in those blue eyes, pupil blown wide until there was just a thin circle of irises. Eggsy panted, lips puffy and red, and nodded eagerly.

A shark-like grin made its appearance on Harry's face.

The older man put him down. “Get rid of your jacket” he ordered. Eggsy wailed in pain, taking off his suit jacket and leaving it on the clothes hanger with forced movements until he turned back to his lover, who looked at him like he could devour him all. The blond shivered. “Come here.”

When Eggsy was again with his back against the door, Harry leaned hottily on his mouth, tongue sweeping out to tease at his lips. “Do you want to come, Eggsy?” his trousers and pants were shoved down his ankles.

Eggsy nodded eagerly once again. “Please, yes” he sobbed, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Please, let me come–”

Harry fell on his knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his hips, biting his way up to the navel and then back down towards his dear boy's cock. “No, wait, don't!” Harry looked up, raising an eyebrow. “I want to come with your cock inside of me...”

Harry smirked evily. “But you can come more than once in a night, can you?” Eggsy's eyes widened. “So... do you want to come, or do you not?”

Eggsy panted, not answering, and his lover licked a wet line from root to tip, sucking the head of his cock between his lips and moaning at the taste of precum on his tongue. Eggsy whined loudly, even more so when the tongue caught on the slit.

“Don't worry, my dear boy, Eggsy” Harry whispered fondly. “I'm going to take care of you. You're going to be good, aren't you?”

Eggsy took a shaddering breath. “Yeah, be good” he whimpered. “Be good for you, Harry.”

“Yes, Eggsy” Harry smiled sweetly. “You're a good boy, my good boy. You're going to let me make you come because you're so good, yeah?” after Eggsy nodded again, Harry swallowed him down in one go.

Eggsy screamed. Of _course_ , Harry _fucking_ Hart didn't have a gag reflex! He engulfes him in the warmth of his mouth from tip to root, and Eggsy could fucking see stars when the head of his cock hit the back of Harry's throat. After long, eternal seconds, Harry pulled back, starting to bob his head up and down with passion, moaning of pleasure when his cock throbbed and spurted a bit more of precum on his tongue.

After a while, Eggsy was close again. He tried to warn Harry in a whine, but since Harry was deliberately sucking his brain out of his cock, he was barely able to form a coherent word. “Ha-Harry” he whined. “'m close...”

Harry moaned again, pulling off his cock to lap at it and look up at him. Eggsy never found anything so hot before. The older man took again the head between his lips and sucked, tongue teasing the slit and tasting precum, until he took him back till the end.

Harry groaned once again, and the vibrations of that sound plus the slightiest hint of teeth around his base pushed Eggsy over the edge.

He came in Harry's throat in long spurts, screaming his pleasure and holding Harry's head in place with both his hands through his hair, not leaving him until he was done. Trembling and panting, his heart racing in his chest so wildly he was sure he was going to die, he didn't even notice Harry standing up and holding him from falling on the floor.

“Need a moment, darling?” Harry asked, smiling fondly. Eggsy, still mind dazed, nodded. He let him help him to step out of his trousers and pants, and didn't complain when Harry picked him up bridal style and brought him in their bedroom.

He relaxed for a while on the soft duvet of the bed while Harry took the lube from the drawer, then sighed happily when his soulmate came back to take care of him. “Are you alright, Eggsy?” Harry asked, kissing his forehead.

Eggsy smiled. “Yeah, 'm good” he answered. “You gonna fuck me now?”

Harry laughed at his impatience. “I was going to worship your whole body, but both of us are far too gone to resist more, am I right?”

“You're right.”

Harry took off the last indument Eggsy had, his shirt, then kissed him sweetly on the lips. “On your stomach, love” he shouldn't have not felt so turned on when the other obeyed instantly. Harry kissed the young boy's neck, tracing his way down his back, and Eggsy's breathing turned hard once again, his body shivering slightly when deft fingers teased his hole. He knew his lover was cleaned, so when he reached Eggsy's sacrum he didn't hesitate from parting the cheeks of his plump arse.

“God, darling, I can't wait to be buried inside of you...” Harry breathed over his sensitive hole, and looked amazed when it clutched on nothing but air, not even teased but already so responsive. Harry decided to be selfish for a moment and licked a long stripe from the back of Eggsy's sack along his crack, tip catching on the sensitive ring of flesh.

Eggsy jolted on the bed and moaned loudly. Oh, yes, he was definitely into that. “Harry...”

Harry started to tease at Eggsy's rim hole with kitten licks, short thrust of his tongue deep enough to catch on the ring but not enough to enter. Eggsy moaned again, but Harry wanted to hear more.

He wanted to hear him scream.

That was how Eggsy found himself yelling his lungs out while Harry ate him out, tongue thrusting deeper each time, licking him open with deft movements that only had him writhing and gripping white-knuckled the sheets in his fist. “ _Nghh,_ Harry!” he yelled, arching his back on the mattress and rutting down on it in search of friction. “Harry, please!”

“Can you come just by this, Eggsy?” Harry asked instead. “Can you come just with me fucking you open with my tongue?” God, didn't the old man have a filthy mouth.

Eggsy was sure he couldn't, because even if he was hard again he couldn't do that. He knew he couldn't come untouched.

Thing was, Harry loved to prove people wrong. And that was what he did in that moment, forcing Eggsy to come apart till he came on the duvet, his throat throbbing and hurting from screaming.

The older man indulged himself with a bit more of preparations, fingering Eggsy open till three fingers could easily slip inside of him. He enjoyed himself even there, curling his fingers inside his warm walls and teasing the jolting bundle of nerves inside of him, writhing out even more whimpers and breathless moans and bringing him back hard.

When Eggsy was ready, Harry stood up and took his clothes off, and only in that moment he conceded himself a couple of strokes to lube himself up. He hoped he would last as long as he could to try and force another orgasm out of Eggsy, who wriggled his bum in his direction with a tired, aroused smirk playing on his sensitive lips.

Harry laughed darkly, eyes blown wide, and turned back on the bed with the right purpose of fucking Eggsy's brains out. He turned him on his back, put a pillow under his hips for a better leverage, then lowered himself on his lover to plaster their bodies together.

“Still alright, Eggsy?” Harry asked, his cock catching on Eggsy's rim.

The young boy squirmed. “ _Mh-mhh_. Now please, _please_ , fuck me.”

Harry complied. He pushed in slowly, inch after inch, Eggsy drawing out a long shaddering moan, until he bottomed out and his hips touched Eggsy's arse. Only then, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. “God, Harry” Eggsy panted. “So good. Feels so good...”

Harry waited for him to adjust, but Eggsy didn't need it. He clenched around him as soon as he felt he couldn't bear that pause any long, and sighed in relief when his soulmate got the message right.

The following thrust, however, took him unprepared, as well as the next, and the next, and the following after. Harry took his time to set a good pace, but Eggsy didn't dare to complain; feeling Harry's cock filling him up at every thrust was the best thing he'd ever felt.

“Harry, Harry, more” he called, arching his back off the mattress and pressing his legs around Harry's waist. The man groaned, leaning down to kiss him hard and good, leaving his lips sore and sensitive, tickling pleasantly.

“You want more?” Harry repeated, his voice starting to lose that calm and collected tone he had untill that moment. His face was flushed red, flustered and hot, and his skin was shiny from sweat.

“Yeah, Harry” Eggsy breathed. “ _Please_ , fuck, _more_.”

“You want me to fuck you good and proper?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Alright, my dear boy” Harry took hold of his thighs, moved his feet on his shoulders, and near bent him in half. But god, in that way, he changed the angle he was pressing in inside of him, and Eggsy had no one ever so deep inside of him. Like that, every thrust was nailing his prostate, and just after a few seconds he was back to screaming, his moans probably waking up the neighbours.

Harry fucked him hard, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping on skin, his flesh digging in Eggsy's and reducing him to a writhing mess of limp limbs and glassed eyes. Pleasure was growing inside of him faster than he thought possible, and suddenly, Eggsy felt himself close once again. Harry's cock hit his prostate again, and after a particular deep thrust at the right angle, he exploded.

Long, thick spurts of come covered his chest and Harry's stomach, but if anything his orgasm only seemed to excite Harry even more. He pounded into Eggsy harder, faster, forcing him to be louder, to come undone under his own eyes, and just when Eggsy thought he was finally done, finally spent and condamned to be overwhelmed by pleasure razing pain in his oversensitive abused hole, he was hard again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he chanted, nails digging in the back of Harry's shoulder, the latter's mouth closing on his throat and marking him with sloppy wet kisses soothing hard bites. “Harry, oh, my fucking god!”

“If you can still say words like this, I'm not doing my job so well” Harry laughed hoarsely against his throat. Eggsy didn't know how, it was fucking impossible for him to understand anything at that point, but Harry changed the angle once again, and it was so good Eggsy started crying.

He called Harry's name again and again, until the pleasure was so strong inside of him he couldn't bring himself to even _think_ , let alone _talk_.

Finally, when his new edge was closer than he could stand, Harry's thrusts started to stutter and his rhythm to falter, meaning that he was close as well. “Can you do that another time, darling?” Harry asked, his voice breaking over the last words. “Can you come for me one last time?”

Eggsy shook his head, because _fuck_ , no, he could not, he couldn't come again, but as Harry proved more than once that night, he was wrong.

Harry's fist closed around his cock and started pumping, thumb brushing over the head and smearing the last spurts of come, and Eggsy was gone.

Gone to hell and back.

He screamed with a loud cry, salty tears streaming down his cheeks while his cock let out the last spurts, now completely empty, and only then Eggsy could be sure that nothing in the world, not even Harry _fucking_ Hart fucking his brains out, could bring it up again.

Feeling Eggsy's arse clenching around himself with so much strenght he almost couldn't move at all, Harry tripped finally over his own edge, groaning Eggsy's name against the skin of his neck and staying inside of him until the last drop of come left him.

They took their time, trying to breathe again without feeling dizzy, and not even that surprisingly, Harry was the first one to recover.

He slipped out of Eggsy, who whimpered at the loss, and stood up on wobbly legs.

“Did I die and come back?” Eggsy mumbled, his voice almost completely gone by how hoarse his throat was. Harry laughed and kissed his forehead, leaving just to take two tatters wetted with warm water.

“Was it like you hoped?” Harry asked while cleaning thoroughly the young man too tired to even take off a pillow from under his back. Eggsy smiled.

“Nah” he denied. The older man's eyes snapped up immediately, tensed. “It was thousands times better.”

Harry found himself laughing at those words. “Alright, I walked on it, point taken” he surrended, cleaning the come leaking from Eggsy's red puffy hole. “But I'm very happy to hear that.”

“And I am to say it” Eggsy replied. He choked off a yawn. “You were amazing, luv, can't believe you walked with a fucking cane not even two weeks ago. Shoulda repeat that as soon as my arse's not sore anymore.”

“When, then?”

Eggsy cringed. “Fuck, I don't know. It was so amazing I'm going to feel it for weeks. You dried me up, love.”

Harry's laughter was stronger this time, and even Eggsy chuckled breathlessly. The older man helped him to get under the duvet, then he took off the upper sheet with the wet spot, and joined Eggsy back under the cover. “You'll have time to recover” he mumbled, hugging him. “You'll be off on a mission tomorrow.”

Eggsy nodded, searching for the warmth of Harry's body. He pressed his back against his chest and took his wrist, following with his fingertips the messy letters of his name on Harry's skin, the proof he was Harry's soulmate.

“Yeah, I will.” he mumbled, basically melting in his lover's embrace. His eyes were starting to close. “But I'll come back, I always do.”

Harry smiled against the warm skin of his shoulder, the mark on his skin tickling slighty because of Eggsy's light touch, while the one on his chest was warm like fire, but pleasantly.

“And I will always be here, waiting for you.”Eggsy let go of his wrist to accomodate better between his arms, happy to be the little spoon.

“For me?” he asked.

Harry kissed his shoulder. “For you.”

 


End file.
